LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN 



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EDWARD G. GERSTLE 



" 1 







NEW YORK & LONDON 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

1885 






COPYRIGHT BY 

EDWARD G. GERSTL]^ 



Press of 

G. P. Putnam's Sons 

New York 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

The Growing Murmur I 

A Hero ......... g 

Dolce Far Niente i8 

The Poet's Hour 24 

The Clay— The Man 27 

Then? 30 

Morn, Noon, Night 33 

Nightfall 36 

The Difference 37 

Morning-Glories . . . . . . . . 38 

Auf Wiedersehen 40 

lone 41 

Song 42 

Daybreak , . . . . . . . , 43 

Vesper-Tide 45 

SONNETS. 

The Tournament ....... 49 

Carmen 50 

The Test 51 

iii 



IV CONTENTS. 

June 12, 1878 52 

The Sweetest Music 53 

Poetry 54 

Success 55 

To Phyllis 56 

Refuge 57 

Sunset , ... 58 

See-Saw 59 

Palma Non Sine Pulvere 60 

Reserve 61 

Ad Infinitum . 62 

Exteriors . 63 

Salvation 64 

Harmony 65 

Puck's Votaries .66 

Drifting 67 

To Eloise, After a Quarrel 68 

Love's Omnipotence ....... 69 

Psyche and Phoenix ....... 70 

Evening 71 

Immortality 72 



THE GROWING MURMUR. 



(class poem, c. c. n. y., '79.) 

What is all this busy murmur that is day by day 
increasing, 
That with mighty sound is swelling, greater, louder 
hour by hour ? 
Can it be the proclamation of Man's glory still 
unceasing. 
Of the giant strides of Science, or the Age's won- 
drous power ? 

Will it bring us joyful tidings of a time of deeper 
feeling. 
Of a day when greater reverence will be more 
and more widespread ; 



2 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

Will it train us for the Future by its mysteries 
revealing, 
Or make the storms in flying pass more lightly 
overhead ? 



Will it teach us to live worthier, will it stir our 
hearts' foundation 
To the depth of their profoundness to attain to 
the ideal ; 
Will it break thro' Nature's barriers to investigate 
creation 
For the philanthropic purpose of determining the 
real ? 

It is but the cry of Sophists who would preach a 
reformation 
'Gainst the aims, they say, and morals of a race 
degenerate, — 



THE GROWING MURMUR. 3 

'Gainst the nations who have fallen from their erst 
exalted station 
And who now are plunging forward to a most 
ignoble fate. 

'T is the mumbling of the doubters, 't is the cry of 
unbelievers 
Who would tell us that we cherish faiths exploded 
long ago, 
That our blind, implicit trusting and our hope are 
mere deceivers. 
That they lure us in the thicket like weird phan- 
toms in the snow. 



For, they say, the time 's corrupted, that our creeds 
are sham and rotten, 
That the day must come when Reason, uncon- 
trolled, must govern all ; 



4 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

That a newer faith is coming (of their mighty brains 
begotten) 
Which will conquer all Religion, smother her ex- 
piring call. 

Some who help to swell the discord say there is no 
God but Nature, 
Some acknowledge no beginning and anticipate 
no end ; 
Some who in each gentle landscape think they see 
His every feature, 
But who cannot yet accredit that in Him all 
powers blend. 

Others build aerial castles in their wild, Utopian 
vision 
Of the momentary coming of the blest millen- 
nium, 



THE GROWING MURMUR, 5 

But the sun of Truth, arising, soon dispels the 
dream Elysian, 
For the world is still unsettled and the times are 
troublesome. 



Then they hold that we are selfish, that each preys 
upon his neighbor, 
That we lurk in secret places and are waging 
endless war ; 
They forget the scroll of History that has told us of 
the sabre 
Seldom sheathed — if not in bodies. — Are we cruel 
as before ? 

Or they claim that we are despots, trampling men 
in degradation, 
Making them our ware and chattel, holding souls 
in servitude : 



O VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

That the slaves we make subservient are the bul- 
warks of the nation. — 
Who would not assert his freedom with a manly 
fortitude ! 



So they argue, do these sceptics, drown Belief in 
scornful laughter, 
Tear Society's strong fabric as the eagle rends 
his prey, 
While we calmly wait and idly for some power to 
come hereafter 
Which, the threads together weaving, shall reclaim 
it from decay. 

We proclaim emancipation both of thought and 
free opinion. 
And we teach great Freedom's lesson and her 
glorious torch ignite ; 



THE GROWING MURMUR, 7 

Grant alike to lord and menial, to the ruler in 
dominion 
And the humblest slave in serving, each his due 
and every right. 

We do hold that Thought 's supernal, which is found 
in Man's progression, 
That the chime from Reason's belfry will go 
sounding on thro' Time 
Till it strike the Future's margin with its forcible 
expression, 
Swelling to a grand sonata, to a symphony 
. sublime. 



No ! the times are not so wretched and mankind is 
not so shameless. 
These are but the wild illusions of the prophets 
of the day : 



8 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN. 

By Conviction*s unleashed deluge, by the answers 
of the blameless, 
Like the armed hosts of Pharaoh, they will perish 
in dismay ! 



Fear not, then ! The dawn is coming and the 
heaven is growing lighter. 
All the clouds that dim the vision will be banished 
from your view. 
Know that life is worth the living ; — then your 
prospect will be brighter 
And the morrow full of promise. To your God 
and selves be true ! 



A HERO. 

On Zion's height, where oft the cooling breezes 
strayed, 

All stood disconsolate, and ruin everywhere ; 

For Roman legions, in their cruel ire delayed, 

Were thirsting for the country's downfall. In de- 
spair 

Its people thronged the dark and slippery blood- 
stained streets 

In shuddering crowds, with fear-white cheeks and 
sunken eyes ; 

Jerusalem's high wall, which first the new sun 
greets 

All rosy, now stood desolate. The sentry's cries 

Disturbed the stillness of the dark, cold night no 
more, 



lO VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN. 

But all was hushed, save where a starving child's 
faint moan 

Rose feebly on the murky air ; or, where before 

Had sung the spinning-wheel, was heard a soldier's 
groan. 

And aged men and wrinkled dames their white 
locks rent, 

And stilled the plaintive pleading of their dying 
sons 

With hollow voice. The white and gayly-bordered 
tent 

Of Titus nestled in the plain, which gently runs 

Beyond the eye's far sweep. 'T was on the yester- 
day 

A squadron, fierce and brave, the lofty towers as- 
sailed ; 

When from the gates behind, in numberless array. 

Poured forth the multitude, equipped and strongly 
mailed ; 



A HERO. II 

And, pressing boldly on the plunder-seeking foe, 
Despatched those near at hand, and straightway- 
close pursued 
Until they reached a hillock ; aiid at stand below 
Let fly their javelins, and a counter-charge with- 
stood. 
Then from the ranks a noble Hebrew youth up- 

sprang, 
And, charging, slew a Roman knight and took his 

horse ; 
And far and wide his loud and clarion voice out- 
rang 
As on they sped ; nor did he waver in his course, 
But drove them sore dismayed far up the hill. At 

last 
The foe, shame-stricken, rallied for the charge and 

wheeled 
Upon their brave opponents. And the legion fast 
Pursued their hot pursuers 'cross the gory field. 



12 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

Then, pierced with many a dart, the gallant charger 

fell, 
And threw its brave, young rider. Rose an echo- 
ing shout 
From out the Roman throats ; and seeing victory 

well, 
They seize the fallen youth, his valiant ranks they 

rout. 
And as they firmly bound him, 'cross his stern 

proud face 
There passed a look of deepest hate. His eyes 

flashed fire. 
And thus he spake : " My lasting curses on the race 
That slew my best-beloved, my mother and my 

sire ! 
But, as there lives a God, my vengeance shall one 

day 
Be wreaked on Titus and his host. I have no fears 
For all your torments. But beware ! and what I say 



A HERO. 



13 



[Mark well, for Roman blood shall flow for Hebrew 

tears ! " 
And thus before the presence of their royal lord 
They brought him ; and the stern centurion straight- 
way told 
To Titus of the issue of the fray. His sword 
He drew, as if to slay at once the warrior bold, 
Rut haughty Titus stayed his ruffian hand, and bade 
His body-guard to watch him and to hold him fast. 
*' O Titus," said the youth, " though I be but a lad 
In years, I still am strong. My joy in life is past. 
For all my kindred dear are slain and rest with God. 
I scorn you and your petty might. I would not ask 
My life from such as you. And sleeping 'neath the 

sod. 
My bones will curse you e'en. To die 's an easy task 
To brave and fearless men. And though a captive 

bound 
I stand before you here within your own tent door, 



14 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

Yet ere yon crescent moon hath gone the earth 
around 

Thy praetors and thy chiefs shall sleep for ever- 
more ! " 

Dark frowned stern Titus. " Bind him well and 
doubly fast ! 

And mark ye that he doth not 'scape ! " loud shout- 
ed he. 

And in the captives' tent the dauntless youth they 
cast, 

Lamenting his sad lot and country's misery. 

His brave, though baffled troop regained the city's 
wall, 

And quick the news they spread, and sorrow deep 
siezed all. 

Hi Ht Hi Hi Hi Hi Hi Hi 

Far down the narrow street there came a pensive 

maid ; 
In listless mood was she, nor marked the evening 

fair ; 



A HERO. 



15 



Not even for a moment was her quick course stayed, 
But straightway on she pressed. The thick, oppres- 
sive air 
She heeded not, and paused not till she reached the 

gate. 
And, crouching near the wall, concealed herself from 

view. 
The sentry slept. She passed, nor did her step 

abate 
Until she gained the Roman camp. A maiden true, 
A patriot was she, and loyal to her cause. 
The moon, as if ashamed so foul a camp to light. 
Withdrew herself behind the clouds. A moment's 

pause 
The maiden made, and then pushed forward 

through the night. 
Now on she sped, and reached the portal of the tent 
In which her warrior lover lay. And from her 

breast 



1 6 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN. 



1 



She drew a bright and keen-edged dagger forth, and 

sent 
The sleeping guard unto his last, unbroken rest ; 
And, entering, cut the cords from off her lover's 

arms, 
And in his hand she placed the cold and gleaming 

knife. — 
When hark ! the camp is roused ! Now loudly 

sound th* alarms ! 
The guards surround the tent ! The foremost 

yields his life 
Upon the warrior's blade ! The captains onward 

press 
And aim their swords directly at his manly heart, 
But strike the maid, who, with one lingering caress, 
Falls lifeless on his stricken breast. The foemen 

start 
And reel. The frantic warrior, maddened at the 

sight, 



A HERO, 17 

Strikes fiercely here and there. His strong arms 

never tire 
In felling low the murdVers of his heart's delight ; 
And stretched upon the ground, five Roman chiefs 

expire ; 
When darts, thrown from behind, pierce through his 

helmless head, 
And down the hero sinks beside the loved one — 

dead ! 



DOLCE FAR NIENTE. 



The morn-breeze was cool and refreshing, the mist 

rose o'er valley and mountain 
In swift-flying cloudlets, like those of smoke when 

battle is ended ; 
And up rose the sun in its glory, and bathed the 

wood and the moorland 
And meadow with refulgent light : and glad was 

the heart of all nature. 
Here and there in the fields of wheat nodding, the 

crows, like spirits of darkness, 
Were hopping and cawing aloud, like goblins of tale 

and of legend. 

The mountains were brilliant with verdure, all 

tinted and radiant with glory, 
i8 



DOLCE FAR NIENTE. I9 

And seemed, like the well-beloved Joseph, adorned 

with a robe of all colors. 
For where the great Day-lamp shone o'er it were 

seen great patches of radiance, 
And the verdant spaces between them were green 

as the waves of mid-ocean ; 
Or, where the cloud sha.dows fell, unchanging, yet 

never one moment 
The same as the last, were seen broad spots of 

Egyptian blackness. 
Then was the stillness disturbed, for over the crys- 
tal mount-brooklet 
The noisy kingfisher flew, intent on his prey in the 

water, 
And, perched on the bough of the elm, the elm of 

the wide-spreading branches, 
All-watchful he gazed far below, where hurry the 

swift-darting fishes 
In and out among the smooth stones, covered over 

with long, wavy mosses. 



20 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

While just at the base of the elm the marsh-frog, all 

green and all slimy, 
Sat with uplifted head, with half-closed eye and 

mouth open. 
Eagerly snapping at flies, that buzzed and that 

hummed round about him. 
And here a huge spider was spinning — the small 

architect of the forest — 
Was building a gossamer bridge, that waved and 

swayed in the morn-breeze. 
Undaunted by failure it worked, an emblem of true 

perseverance. 
The streamlet's bank was deserted by man, but not 

by Nature deserted, 
For there the marsh- mallows flourished amid the 

sweet clover-blossoms. 
And long slender leaflets of ferns out-sparkled the 

emerald in brilliance. 
And here, o'er a fallen oak drooping, that fell o*er 

the stream in the storm-wind — 



DOLCE FAR NIENTE, 21 

That fell in its pride and its strength, like warriors 

in War's awful conflict, 
There blossomed the long maiden-hair and daisy 

and tiny Spring-beauty. 
While aloft the ships of the ether, as white as the 

down of the sea-bird, 
Like barks on the Great W^ater's bosom, were float- 
ing with slow, lazy motion. 
Reflected below in the stream, which, like a true 

mirror of Nature, 
Gave back to the eye of the Poet the shape and the 

form and the color 
Of mountain and tree and of cloud, of flower and 

each bough overhanging, — 
Gave back the whole varied scene in all its charm 

and minuteness. 
And here, far up in the top of yonder high-reaching 

poplar. 
Which points to the blue vault above, like an angel 

bright in a vision, 



22 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

Sweetly the bobolink carolled in notes melodious 

and liquid, 
And poured forth its hymn to the day, a sweet, 

simple song of thanksgiving. 
The purple tops of the mounts, where oft the low- 
ering mists gather, 
The same and all undisturbed since first, at the 

great Master's calling. 
They stood in grandeur, showed forth no signs of 

man's habitation ; 
But there, nestling snug on its breast, as the babe 

on its fond mother's bosom, 
At the base of the green mountain side reposed the 

clustering village. 
Away from the bustle and roar and turmoil of great 

cities' traffic. 
In peace and in comfort and ease, the heirs of 

the forest and woodland, 
The gardeners honest and true, dwell happy in 

earth's fairest Eden. 



DOLCE FAR NIENTE. 2$ 

From sleep's soft embraces at morn the swallow, 

chattering, awakes them, — 
To guide the ploughshare awakes them — the ship 

of the field and the farm-yard, 
Which, just as the great diving-bell regains from 

the bed of the ocean 
The treasures long hidden there, to the husband 

man gains the rich harvests ; — 
Awakens them unto the axe, loud sounding at 

break of the morning. 
The low-felling axe and ringing, the axe of the 

forester sturdy. 
In dwellings humble and neat, with small and 

white latticed windows, 
O'er which twines the glory-of-mprn, and twines 

the sweet honeysuckle. 
They dwell till the Angel of Death, with fingers 

soothing and gentle. 
Their lamp of existence puts out, and bears them 

home to their Father. 



THE POET'S HOUR. 



Down in the vale by the calm brooklet's bank, 
Where violets bloom ; where weeds, tall and rank, 
Up-spring round the elm 'neath whose far-spreading 

shade 
The shepherd reposed, while gambolled and played 
The light-hearted children and school-free and 

gay :— 
The poet there witnessed the death of the day. 
There bathes the old shepherd his brow in the 

stream. 
And, stretched 'neath the elm, for a nap and a 

dream 

Prepares ; and his flock-dog, great, shaggy, and 

g^ay, 

24 



THE POET'S HOUR. 25 

Half-asleep guards the herd through the fast-fading 

day. 
The butterfly flits from blossom to flower, 
The robin sings sweet from his cool, leafy bower 
To his bright, busy mate in clear notes and shrill, 
To his mate in the elm-grove adorning the hill ; — 
On the hill on whose bosom the buttercup grows, 
The daisy, the lilac, and wild mountain-rose. 
The evening is quiet and naught is astir 
Save the shepherd ; no sound save the locust's 

swift whir 
As it lights on the turf, or when sounds from the 

marsh 
The croak of the tree-toad discordant and harsh. 
The bulrushes sway to and fro in the breeze 
On the brooklet's cool side ; and golden-backed 

bees 
(Their labor complete) seek their honey-stored cell 
At the vine-covered cot or the bright, bubbling 

well, 



26 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

While white, fleecy clouds, floating high in mid-air, 
Are fringed like a robe by the Sun's dying glare ; 
But soon they are robbed of their swift-flying hue 
As the Master of Day 'neath the hills sinks from 

view, 
And leaves the tired world to his seneschal, Night, 
Who glides with slow tread o'er this vale of delight. 



THE CLAY— THE MAN. 



(a fancy.) 



The great volcano from its crater wide, 
Unseemly as the Cyclop's glaring eye, 
Smoked and yet smoked. While all above 
Its rugged forehead dreary was and bleak, 
Beneath was glad and smiling : richest groves 
In their recesses sheltered altars reared 
To all the godheads ; there narcissus flowers 
And hyacinths were blended, each in each, 
To form a gaudy carpet whereupon 
The dancing Oreads, wreath-encircled all. 
Their chorus lifted to the echoing moon 
And listening stars ; or Bacchus, crowned 
With deep-empurpled clusters, summoned thence 

27 



28 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

His Satyrs and Bacchantes, bidding them 
Awake the stillness with a merry song, 
Or make the caverns answer to the ring 
Of ever-tripping feet. Thence Venus came 
(The archer-god beside her), dove-conveyed, 
And sent him sporting thro' the shady dell. 
No mortal being had been formed before, 
When high Olympus still was young ; no man 
Yet trod the earth or drew ambrosial air 
Into his waking breast. There was no life 
Save that of senseless creatures, roaming far 
Within the copse's depth and thicket's gloom, 
Lording Creation. Then the only God 
Fashioned a clayey shape, as yet inert 
And spiritless. Resolving to combine 
In that one form what seemed immaculate 
Alike in beauty and in soul, He bade 
His angels bear the last-created work 
And lay it in the glen ; for there the gods, 



THE CLAY-- THE MAN, 29 

His ministers, their various arts applied 
To beautify and rule the panting world, 
Still heated from its birth. *T was Cupid's task 
The form inanimate to vivify : 
Calling his darling Psyche to his side, 
He perched her on a barbless arrow, while 
Her dewy wings of gossamer were tired 
With ceaseless fiutterings. The god of Love, 
Drawing the string until the feathered shaft 
Grazed with its tip the double-bended bow. 
Pierced thro* the heart the newly fashioned life. 
Thus soul and love were planted in the breast 
That drank in life and stirred with quickened pulse. 
Where yet no wound was left. The mass rose up 
The noblest work, the wondrous masterpiece, 
And seized the sceptre and the crown that lay 
Easy of grasp. 

The clay arose a Man ! 



THEN? 

Our hopes, our joys, our aspirations high, 

Our broken pledges, sins and failings end 

When ends this short and strange career. And 

then ? — 

Confounding problem, great and still unsolved ; 

Far from the striving grasp of human thought 

Removed ! O Death ! great arbiter of all 

That storms and frets within our inmost hearts — 

O thou that sparest none thy clammy touch — 

Thou proof eternal of our nothingness — 

What lies beyond thee and thy child, the Grave ? 

True, mother earth will clasp our wearied forms 

(Our forms how grand, yet miserably small !) 

Within her never-ending, fond embrace 

30 



THEN? 31 

Until to dust primeval it return — 

To dust, to darkness, and oblivion ; 

But can she hold the God-lent spirit too, 

Nor grant permission that it homeward soar 

Again to mingle with its heavenly source ? 

And shall the soul, incorporate, remain 

A captive in this perishable clay, 

As some proud king, in fetters stately still, 

Confined in loathsome cell ? Or does this soul, 

This imprint unmistakable of God 

In man, clear stamped upon the heart and brow ; 

This yearning for the better things that be ; 

This pledge of reparation for the wrongs 

And sorrows that we pilgrims must endure ; — 

Does this great soul existence yield when Death 

Congeals with icy touch the failing breath ? 

Or does it live when perisheth the shape 

That fools call man ; and, from its bonds released, 

Regain the Fountain-head of Holiness ? 



32 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN. 

Appear again, in purer vesture clad, 

Before the great Tribunal of the World ? 

The blemished soul will find redemption there ! 

The blemished soul ? Ah, yes, for it returns 

Not, as it came from God, immaculate, 

But soars with tainted and with spotted robe, 

Returning like a weary prodigal ! 

A lily fair cast in a muddy stream 

Will lose its faultless hue. So with the soul, 

Divine of birth ; for base Corruption's hand 

And Crime's red fingers taint its whiteness rare. 

But ere again it entereth the realm 

Of life eternal, it is made all bright 

And pure and clear ; and, bleached beneath the sun 

Of God's forgiveness, it is taken home 

To live with Him throughout the length of days ! 



MORN, NOON, NIGHT. 



On the bridge's modest span 

I linger in the morning gray, 
While the sighs of Eurus fan 
Troubles on my brow away. 
As a dream 

Glides the stream 
With a laughing, merry greeting, 
Smoothing wrinkles from the sand 
With its soothing, gliding hand. 
With its gentle touch and fleeting. 
In and out 

Darts the trout 
'Tween the stones and over, 
Restless as a lover. 
33 



34 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

In the stillness of the glen 

Shaded by the foliage thick, 
Far from busy marts of men, 

Far from piles of stone and brick, 
There I lie ; 
And the sky, 
Azure, stormless, tideless ocean, 
Spotted is with fleets of clouds, 
Single here, and there in crowds. 
Floating with a languid motion. 
All is here 

Bright and clear ; 
Sounds the merry cricket 
Gayly from the thicket. 

Now I seek the grand cascade 
Thundering from its dizzy height 

To its basin in the glade, 
In the many-tinted light. 



MORN, NOON, NIGHT. 35 

Then away 
Flies the spray- 
In a foamy, feathered shower, 
Dancing in the moon-beams pale, 
Like a chorus in the vale, — 
Goddesses of field and flower. 
Echoes call 

From mountain wall, 
Reverberating ever. 
Fainting, dying never. 



NIGHTFALL. 



Night has fallen on the river, 

Gliding soft and slowly by, 
And its wavelets dance and quiver, 

Star-lit from an azure sky. 

Night has fallen on the ocean. 

Rough, storm-brewing, uncontrolled ; 

Scene of Nature's wild commotion, 
Rest of many a seaman bold. 

Down she casts her sombre curtain 
0*er the city slumbering deep ; 

And her watch-lamps, bright and certain, 
"Vigils o*er its slumbers keep. 

O'er the country, o'er the mountain 

Still and calm her shadows fall ; 

Covers she the field and fountain. 

With her robe encircling all. 
36 



THE DIFFERENCE. 



" Only a beggar ! ** said the world. 
The bitter words sank deep 
In the outcast's broken heart. 
For years he worked, for years he toiled ; 
Rich harvests did he reap, 
But gave the poor a part. 

"A worthy man ! *' so says the world, 
And smiles as if well pleased 
To shake the rich man's hand. 
He robbed the poor, the weak despoiled, 
The widow's earnings seized, 

And took the orphan's land. 

Which gets the praises, which the curse ; 

And which do people trust ? 
The world would judge each by his purse, 

But Heaven is more just ! 
37 



MORNING-GLORIES. 



Sweet and tender little flower 
Clinging fondly to the wall, 

Beautifying porch and tower, 
Fit to grace the banquet-hall, 

'T is of thee I sing the praises, 

Emblem of simplicity ; 
Union of the blessed Graces, 

Faith, sweet Hope, and Charity ! 

In thy purple flowers see we 

Royal Faith, that guiding star, 

Which we, desert-wand'rers weary 

In life*s wastes, hail from afar. 
38 



MORNING-GLORIES, 39 

In the crimson morning-glory 

Lies the roseate hue of Hope, 
Driving off Fear, dread and hoary. 

Teaching with all cares to cope. 

In her robes, so pure and snow-white, 

Shines forth holy Charity, 
Radiant as the silv'ry moonlight ; — 

Thrice blessed art and wilt thou be ! 

Thou art in my sight far fairer 

Than all blossoms of the sod. 
For thou leadest me e'er nearer, 

Nearer to our common God ! 



AUF WIEDERSEHEN. 



To-night we part, but not for ever, — 
That thought were full of pain ; 

Tho* chance our firm communion sever, 
Our hearts will meet again. 

Then give me, love, e'er thou art going. 
For love's sweet sake a kiss ; 

I should become most blest in knowing 
Such perfect joy as this. 

I '11 give it back on thy returning 

To hope and love and me, 
I '11 give it living, glowing, burning 

With holiest thoughts of thee ! 



40 



r 



lONE. 

There 's confession in your eyes, lone, 
There *s a blush upon your cheek ; 

And I know what each implies, lone, 
Tho' your lips refuse to speak. 

For I know that you love one, lone, 

But not whom it may be, — 
I *d live as gay as the sun, lone. 

If only I were he ! 



41 



SONG. 

Wandering lone on Memory's shore 

In the gloaming dim and sweet, 
The golden tide its treasures bore 

And gently laid them at my feet : 
Recollections of fair years, 

Jocund as the springtime dawn. 
Innocent of care or tears 

As the gleeful face of Morn. 

And I gathered from the waves 

Tokens from the wreck of Love, 
Storm-tossed from their restless graves 

To the cheerless waste above. 
Still I walked the barren sand 

With fond hope arising fast 
That some sail from distant strand 

Might restore my love at last. 
42 



> 



DAYBREAK. 



1^ 



Hast thou seen the gentle blending 
Of the darkness with the light, 

When the Morn his beams is sending 
To transpierce the shield of Night, 

And the heavens in prayer are bending 
O'er the world refreshed and bright ? 



Then the modest moon is fleeting 
On her silver car through space, 

As if 'shamed to bear a meeting 
With the sun's hard-staring face, 

And feathered choirs the dawn are greeting 
At their lofty altar-place. 
43 



44 



VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 



From their wind-rocked slumber waking, 
Flowerets flaunt in chaste array ; 

And the brook, its cymbals shaking, 
Greets with rhythmic praise the day ; 

Whilst, above the hill-top breaking, 
Dawn dispels the lingering gray. 



VESPER-TIDE. 



The eve is dusk and dim, 

The air is still ; 
I hear the lowly hymn 
Rise and fill 
The vesper calmness with its melody ; 

I hear the chime 
In distant belfry toll its threnody 
In measured time. 
The bees 
Hiveward bring the golden store, 
Humming as they fly ; 
The trees, 
With light and shadow mottled o'er, 
Stand dim against the sky ; 
45 



46 VERSES OF A COLLEGIAN, 

The soaring lark 

Sings gay, — and hark ! 
The parting call of some sad bird 

Is heard, 
And the mimic thunder of the mill 

Grows still. 



11 



SONNETS. 



47 



THE TOURNAMENT. 



r 



I SEEK, well armed, th' adventurous lists of life, 

My name is heralded in the tournament ; 

My arms, my steed are ready for the strife 

Toward whose dim issue loving eyes are bent. 

Ride forth the champions bravely to the fray, 

Their ready lances poised to strike for Love, 

Whose smiles inspire them, glancing from above, 

Where lovely maidens for their heroes pray. 

I seek the lists. Uncertain is the end 

(The world is set against me to a man). 

Yet, or success or death my trial attend, 

I will win glory if a mortal can ; 

But if I fall beneath th* opposing spear. 

Will none lament me with a pitying tear ? 



49 



CARMEN. 

Spirit of Song, incline thy gracious head 

And pour from out thy sweet harmonious throat 

Thy symphonetic and melodious note, 

Which, from its pathos, fain would stir the dead ! 

O heaven-gifted warbler ! soft thy lay 

And soothing as the prattle of the brook 

Or cheery as the forest-whistler's song ; 

Thy power will last when lofty mounts decay 

And crumble, and when Nature's mildewed book 

Shall close forever to the busy throng 

That thumbed its once bright pages. Thou shalt 

live 
Unchanging ever, bright as golden ray 
Apollo-darted, and new life shalt give, 
O tuneful maid, when Chaos rules the day ! 



50 



THE TEST. 



Your compliments, your vows I 've treasured up, 

Your protestations, sighs, and phrases fine 

Which overflowed alike a brimful cup 

(When jarred) that spills the ruby-tinted wine. 

All these I Ve gathered in a mass confused 

And heated in the crucible of Truth 

Till thro' it all the testing heat diffused, — 

A fire of criticism but of ruth ; 

And thus I found your friendship but a name, — 

The cloth of gold was tinsel, warp and woof. 

Your love a refuge, — but without a roof 

To shield from storm, for when the tempest came 

I was not sheltered from its breath so cold : — 

The fire that proved you faithless left no gold. 



51 



JUNE 12, 1878. 



Weep, Muse of Poesy, weep for Bryant dead, 

Departed to the realms of blameless life ; 

Who walked thy fair domain with magic tread, 

Unblemished and untainted in the strife 

Which biting Envy and foul Malice cause ! 

Dead is the grand old Poet of the Wood, 

Both true to Earth-made and to Heaven's laws ;- 

Fit pattern of a noble heart and good ! 

As pure as incense rose his simple lay, 

Limpid and clear as some unruffled stream ; 

Life seems eternal 'neath his penciFs sway. 

And Death appears an everlasting dream. 

The bark is grounded on the final shore ; 

Its Master's name will live for evermore ! 



52 



THE SWEETEST MUSIC. 



Throughout all nature fairy music falls, 

From throat of lark and nightingale and thrush, 

Breathes in the whip-poor-wills* sad, plaintive calls, 

And from the woodland stream glad paeans gush. 

The rolling anthem of the organ's peal. 

The mellow cadence of the silvery flute, 

That, Orpheus-like, can hold dumb creatures mute, 

Are notes that thrill us thro*, that make us feel ; 

So, too, the artless prattle of a child. 

The untrained song of some field-tutored lass. 

The torrent's roar in its commotion wild. 

The winds' soft whisper, murmuring as they pass ; 

But sweeter far, all other strains above, 

The soft confession of a maiden's love ! 



53 



POETRY. 

The poet's word is full of charm and grace 

And falls upon the wounded heart like balm, 

Soothing its pain ; it fills a lonely place 

In some soul-desert and shoots forth a palm 

Of branching self-contentment. As a seed 

(Borne by some tropic-seeking bird aloft), 

When cast upon the earth and buried soft 

By pitying rain-drops, downward sends with speed 

Its tender rootlets, so the poet's word. 

Poised o'er the soul on dim Suggestion's wings, 

Leaves a sweet guerdon where its voice is heard 

And in its train fertility it brings. 

The seed once sown, the desolated plain 

Of stricken spirit forthwith smiles again. 



54 



SUCCESS. 

Obstructions here and there oppose the way 
Upon the highroad leading to Success, 
And Hydra-hideous obstacles increase. 
Uncertain is the path and dark, no ray 
Breaks thro' the gloom ; 't is only steadfastness 
That can lead forward to that Golden Fleece. 
This is the magical and wondrous stone 
Whose touch converts the basest dross to gold ; 
'T is this that leads the aspirant to the throne, 
'T is .thought of this that makes the weakling bold. 
All seek it, yet how few are they who win ! 
What is the secret of it ? Uprightness 
And purity of purpose, aim akin 
To true nobility and godlikeness. 



65 



TO PHYLLIS. 



To gaze into thy face is joy ; more joy 

To hear thee speak or sing, to see thee smile, 

But 't is a happiness without alloy 

To con the language of thine eyes the while, 

For there I read the secrets of thy heart 

And each emotion scan, each thought surmise, 

From which I apprehend in manner wise 

The confidence thy lips will not impart. 

O for fit words that would my love disclose ! 

Words but declare the shadow of the thought 

E'en though with burning meaning they be rife ; 

Yet know that in my heart thine image grows 

Each moment dearer, that all else is naught 

Save that thy life is love, thy love is life ! 



56 



REFUGE. 

Fast thro* the wintery wilderness I ride, 

Feeble from battle, cold and worn and faint ; 

A horrid, gaping wound is in my side 

Thro' which the blood-tide ebbs its mute complaint. 

A trusty knight, I bravely held my ground 

Till lance was shivered and my friends fell dead ; 

Fast fell my mace on breast and shield and head. 

And foes sank low. . . . The bugle's clarion sound 

Aroused me, lying in the chill and dark. 

So I speed hither to thy waiting breast. 

That haven, where alone I look for rest. 

Thy heart my citadel. — But hark, but hark ! 

The ringing horn, the close pursuers* cries ! 

I reach thy gates, am safe beneath thine eyes. 



57 



SUNSET. 

Upon a mount I see the sun decline, 

Painting the distant hills in gold and red 

And royal purple ; the faint low of kine 

Comes from the vale, where gorgeously lies spread 

A scene of matchless beauty : rolling groves 

Of beech and poplar clustering on the brink 

Of silver-watered streams, where, knee-deep, drink 

(Slow winding from the road) the straggling droves. 

And comes the vesper song of some gay swain, 

Commingled with the merry reaper's song, 

As he beholds his cottage in the lane. 

Around whose hearthstone all his wishes throng. 

Thus, all is peace ; the sad crows homeward fly 

In noisy flock, and tell me night is nigh. 



58 



SEE-SAW. 

We play at see-saw, love, from day to day : 

With buoyant heart you rise, elate and glad, 

The while I sink in cheerless musings sad, — 

When you are grieving I am fairly gay. 

The slanting sunbeams kiss you in their flight, 

Whilst I behold the bare and cheerless plain 

Of level commonplace ; when clears my sight 

With hopeful visions, you are dull again. 

Why then, I ask, should this be ? Shall we find 

Nor common ground where soul can speak to soul, 

Nor talisman to lift the clouds that roll 

Their vapory barriers 'tween the heart and mind ? 

Nay, doubt me not, but leave the fickle cheat 

Of ups and downs, and make my joy complete. 



50 



PALMA NON SINE PULVERE. 



Behold the Circus Maximus, alive 
With speeding chargers in their headlong course ; 
With wide-distended nostrils how they strive, 
Urged on by lashes and by yellings hoarse ! 
Now see the riders spin around th' ellipse 

Enveloped in a cloud of blinding dust ; 

* 

No faltering now, but ever on they must, — 
Hear the loud calls, the snapping of the whips ! 
The end is nigh, the goal is near them now, — 
On, on the victor presses to the lead. 
See, now he wins ! The palm bedecks his brov/ 
All dust-begrimed, — a well contested meed. 
By him alone can Victory's wreath be worn 
Who nobly hath the brunt of battle borne. 



60 



RESERVE. 

Our mother, Nature, tells but half she knows, 
And guards her secrets with a jealous care ; 
Her many tongues are silent everywhere : 
The perfumed breath of every wind that blows 
Tells but the whisper of the fragrant lea ; 
The rolling of the breakers on the shore 
Tells but the murmur of th* unsounded sea, 
Which guards its speechless lips for evermore ; 
The nightingales express not all they feel ; 
The brooklet gossips to its banks but half 
It has to tell ; the cascade checks its laugh, 
And selfish buds their sweetest scent conceal. 
Why say I love thee ? Shall I tell the whole 
Of all the thoughts that stir mine utmost soul ? 



6i 



AD INFINITUM. 



Whatever is, is finite. Ends there be 

To all within th* inviolable law 

Of " so far, but no farther ! " Verily, 

But God and love are boundless. Them no shore 

Encompasseth, no palings hedge them in, 

Creator and created, God and love. 

Around one axial point the planets move, 

The utmost world upon the heaven's rim 

And reverent systems 'yond the ken of man, 

Concentrated for a cycle, — then they pass. 

Alone *t is ours, since life itself began 

By love of God, God's blest love to amass 

In full profusion and its wealth impart 

To every kindred, sympathetic heart ! 



62 



EXTERIORS. 



In blushing fruitage oft the worm is hid, 

And Dead Sea fruit, tho' beautiful to see, 

Has ashes for its core and for its lid 

The dust of barren insincerity. 

In priceless caskets oft is found no pearl, 

No ruby, diamond — naught but rattling stones, 

The hollow mockeries and shades of worth ; 

And so among the brilliants of the earth 

Whose outward glare for inward dross atones, — 

Th* empurpled monarch and the ermined earl, 

The heartless beauty in her pride and grace. 

... I would not love thee, love, did I not know 
Thy heart is purer than the falling snow, 

Lending its beauty to thine angel face ! 



03 



SALVATION. 



Across the grave of memories most dear, 

That were the very essence of my past, 

I fell when none was there to cheer 

My spirit's pinions, which had failed at last ; 

No kindly voice, no kindred self was near, 

No spar unto the sinking soul was cast. 

I rose and looked into the Future's pane 

Of polished waters, there to seek my fate : 

Despair and Doubt, contrarious winds, in hate 

The mirror ruffled — and I looked in vain. 

My gaze alighted on Love's mercy-seat 

(Its angels not more pure than thou !) and heard 

Thy voice say " Hope ! " — thy voice so sweet, 

Whereof the echo, dear, is that blest word. 



64 



HARMONY. 



Thro* nave and transept and the vaulted aisle 
Of my husht soul a harmony steals on, — 
The softened echo of her cherished voice, 
A deathless echo. Wherefore, soul, rejoice 
In that she loves thee ; tho' the^ song be gone, 
She still will cheer thee with her sunny smile, 
And cast a living beam thy dark across 
Of time-surviving trusting ! O my heart, 
O love, O life, O better self, fear not, 
Nor tremble on the main of Woe to toss ! 
The easy task is thine, and light thy part 
If in thy presence she retain a spot 
For song and worship. Let the organ peal, 
The anthem sound, the joyous chorus swell 
To fitly celebrate the bliss ye feel 
In knowing this : She loves ye, loves ye well ! 

65 



PUCK'S VOTARIES. 



Dear friend, our fairy-time of love is gone 

When you and I were self-created elves, — 

Titania you, and I was Oberon, — 

Tho' love's disciples, gods of love ourselves. 

Together then we chased the butterfly, — 

The wandering Psyche of the scentful meads, — 

Or soared on thistle-down up toward the sky, 

Curbing with cob-web reins our wondrous steeds. 

But some rude tempest of the world's abuse 

Our chariots wrecked and us asunder tore. 

From mutual embrace each other bore. 

And, parted, turned us in the thicket loose. 

O lost one, happy be where'er thou art ; 

In Elfin-land we '11 know each other's heart ! 



66 



DRIFTING. 



We two have met on life's adventurous main, 

Alike two barks that hail from different climes, 

And, words of good cheer past, we part again 

Perchance to meet no more in future times ; 

But, if thou only gain th' intended port, 

I reck not what dame Fortune send to me, — 

Whether I drift upon the placid sea 

Or that the billows toss me in their sport, — 

For like a phantom ship I '11 follow thee 

Unseen, yet seeing, o'er the treacherous tide 

Until in moorings safe thy spirit be. 

Soul of my soul, my ward and yet my guide ; 

And when the Goal thy good ship makes at last 

Near thine the anchor of mv soul I '11 cast. 



67 



TO ELOISE. 



AFTER A QUARREL. 

When Nature, studying womankind to find 

One faultless all in all, gave up the quest 

As vain, she tried to mould once more 

A being perfect both in form and mind 

And heart. Combining deftly from the rest 

Of all her models what was fair she saw. 

In one she blent perfection of each part 

And made an ideal shape ; but, trusting not 

To find a pattern for a fitting heart. 

Sought from an angel one without a spot : 

And thus she formed thee, dear. When thou shalt die 

(All Nature's means exhausted and combined 

In thee), her bold invention will be blind, 

And there will be no beauty 'neath the sky ! 

68 



LOVE'S OMNIPOTENCE. 



The world is ruled by thine imperious hand, 

O wanton Love, omnipotent ! The camp, 

The court, the halls with " Know Thyself '' 

Above the lintel carved, thy sweet command 

(Ensealed with th* attesting, gracious stamp 

Of happiness) obey. The strife for pelf 

And growing treasure dwindles into naught 

Before thine august presence ; love of fame 

No longer is remembered ; all intent 

Upon the quest of thee the heart is bent 

To-day, to-morrow. Man, e*en now the same 

As when the new-born sunbeams first were caught 

And chained by God to brighten Eden-fields, 

(Sun-land of Love !) to thee his homage yields ! 



69 



PSYCHE AND PHOENIX. 



All love is, Psyche-like, of painted wings, 

A brilliant many-colored butterfly 

That seeks the meadow where the tree-top rings 

With joyous song, and will as speedy die 

(Tho' lately springing from the chrysalis), 

A dim, ephemeral, and fleeting dream. 

Perchance your love is such an one as this ? 

But no ! I read it in the truthful beam 

Of your candor-speaking eye. 'T is, rather, like 

The ceaseless being of the Phoenix old. 

For, though the chill of Death its spirit strike. 

It springs, re-born, from out its ashes cold : 

It cannot wane, it cannot fade or die, 

But live on constant for eternity ! 



70 



EVENING. 



The western sky the setting sun reveals, 
The lengthening shadows fall on field and stream ; 
A holy quiet o'er the landscape steals 
While dims the twilight like a fading dream. 
But now the crow has sought its lofty nest, 
The dove no more repeats its soft complaint, 
The forest-chanter long has gone to rest, 
And, high aloft, the skylark's song grows faint ; 
The bee has stored its precious freight of gold, 
The butterfly has closed her tired wings ; 
The night-wind rustles over mead and wold. 
And all is still ; the thrush no longer sings : — 
'T is then, my love, on pinions gay and free 
My heart in day-dreams fondly turns to thee ! 



71 



4 



IMMORTALITY. 



I HOPE, I long for immortality ! 
Not for recordance on the scroll of Fame 
Where names are oft emblazoned by Caprice, — 
Not this I seek, but that when life shall cease 
With all its joys and pains my end shall be 
The consummation of this humble aim : 
That all I loved shall think with love of me, 
That those I treasured still shall hold me dear 
In recoUective moments ; that a tear 
From alien eyes be shed in charity. 
But, greatest hope ! I seek th* undying flower 
I pray shall blossom at the flight of breath. 
If God so will, to crown the final hour,— 
The spirit's immortality in death ! 



72 



